


You've Got Some Deadly Charm

by CrystalSprings



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Game: Resident Evil 2, Leon is good with guns, Reader is immune, Reader-Insert, Zombie Apocalypse, and Marvin is dying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-24 06:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalSprings/pseuds/CrystalSprings
Summary: After a failed attempt to escape to Raccoon City Police Department, you're trapped in an expensive apartment and surrounded by zombies on all sides. Following a breach in your hideout's security, you steal a car and drive to the RPD rather than running.When you arrive, it's a lot messier and more dangerous than you'd expected, but hey, at least there's a hot guy with a gun, right?
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Reader, Leon S. Kennedy/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

The wind beats hard on the window, heightening your already intense anxiety. Every creak and breath makes you flinch and your heart rate hasn't lowered at all in the past two days, not since you fled your zombie infested neighborhood to get to the police station.

You didn't make it, obviously. You'd had to escape to a random apartment building with literally hundreds of zombies on your tail.

You flick your eyes around the apartment again. Everything is untouched and clean, aside from the kitchen sink, which you have yet to clean the vomit from. The living room is spick and span, though it wasn't like that when you arrived. After blocking the door with heavy furniture, the next thing you did was clean up everything from the floor and make the area clear of debris. The last thing you wanted was to trip on something and fall.

As well as being totally embarrassing, it could've ended up killing you.

You shift uneasily from your spot on the sinfully delicate couch. Before the apocalypse, it must have been a very luxurious and expensive home...

Too bad it's yours now, even if you feel wildly out of place amongst this pristine living area, what with your blood soaked clothes and dirty hands and fingers.

Your leg twitches, and pain shoots up your calf for the fortieth time that day. The bite mark aches and you desperately fight the urge to itch the wound. You'd only gotten it two days ago. You'd been heading up the stairs and a zombie had grabbed and bitten the exposed skin.

You look back on the previous days and once again thank god that apparently you were immune to the virus. It really added onto your survival chances, even if you were truly incompetent in literally every other category.

'Won't help me if I'm being eaten alive by a bunch of zombies, though...' You think with a touch of dark humor, a wry smile fluttering across your lips.

You check the time on the fancy-ass clock hanging on the wall above the fireplace. It's around twelve thirty, so you have a few hours of alert time before you need to rest your eyes. You'll probably leave tomorrow at noon, when it's brightest outside. The police station should be still be accepting survivors, right?

Someone outside screams suddenly and you jump, heart pounding. The woman screams again, a guttural sound of absolute terror and pain that causes your entire being to clench with sympathy and fear. Her voice breaks multiple times, so it's as if her cries are being muted and unmuted repeatedly.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight and try to block out the sounds with your mind. The floor above you creaks as the undead upstairs respond to her dying shrieks and you silently pray she dies soon. While an awful thought, she's dead anyway, and may as well not take you with her.

Despite your heavy barricade blocking the door, you know that if enough of them push against it, that it'll topple over and leave your place exposed.

Now, you might be thinking, Hey, wouldn't the door handle hold it in place, too? And good fellow, you'd be within your rights to assume such a fact! But the truth is a bitch: there's no fucking door handle. The only thing keeping you safe is that giant china cabinet you haphazardly dragged in front of the useless piece of wood once considered a door.

You purse your lips. The woman's screams have died down, but the zombies upstairs are still moving. You might have to leave earlier than you'd thought.

And the first zombie falls down the steps.

See, the thing about zombies, is that they're stupid. They have no higher brain functions. They can't look at a set of steps and realize they have to bend their other leg in order to step down. No, they simply stumble forward and fall down the stairs in a flail of rotting limbs and blood. It's the most horrifying thing you've seen so far, and you've seen a lot.

Now, as you hear that fucking thing outside start to stand up, another one falls, probably drawn down because of the other one's noise.

Soon, more and more nightmare fuel sounds creep into your ears as the undead thump thump thump down the stairs to your floor. They start to groan and you feel your heart rate go higher yet.

You think they're hanging around outside your door, judging from the placement of their ragged breath and ungainly footsteps. They shuffle, each moan setting your nerves ablaze.

At this point, you're standing readily near the doorway, butcher knives from the kitchen in both hands. There are a variety of kitchen knives duct taped securely to your hips, so you have a lot of weapons. You put the extras there, though, the main ones are on your shoes and are facing outwards, so that you can kick zombies with newly sharpened knives at the toe points.

Yes, you look ridiculous, like an eight year old trying to intimidate an imaginary bad guy with silverware.

But you'll take looking stupid over being dead any day, and if this defense can save you any pain, then you'll be better off for it.

But back to the zombies outside your door. They've stopped falling down the stairs, and you've got such awful luck that the woman stopped screaming just after the first few undead took a tumble. It attracted the others down to your floor, and nowhere further.

Sooooo now you're fucked. Officially.

It's only a matter of time before they catch your scent and start banging on the door. Then they'll get in and eat you alive. You'll put up as much of a fight as you can, but in the end, you'll be nothing but another happy meal for the things to enjoy.

The thought sends your eyes widening and fear kicking in even harder than before. You have to get out of here and get to the police station, somehow.

Your eyes once again sweep the room. There's no escape other than the fire escape you duct taped so you couldn't see through it. Why? Because the fire escape has like three zombies crawling around out there. That's why.

You start to take measured breaths. Hyperventilating and passing out will not help you, even if you want to curl up in the fetal position and never move again. 

Against your deepest instincts, you head for the window across the apartment. The walk seems to take forever, mainly because you don't want to get there at all. When you can't stall any longer, you take the few short steps up to the frame.

It smells of tape and decaying wood. Your breathing becomes even more labored, the idea of what you're about to do sending your heart into what feels like cardiac arrest. You set down the butcher knives on the broken down heater underneath the window.

You silently unlatch the source of your feeling of eminent doom, then slowly start to lift it up by the very edges of your fingers. You go at a snail's pace, believing that will help with less squeaks and noise. It does, at first, but then it slowly starts to grate louder and louder. You start to hear moans and groans from outside and your grip weakens.

Thankfully, you only hear the sounds from a single source, so you assume the others have fallen since you last checked, which was... three days ago? 

Anyway, you stop pulling up the window and pick up your knives again. The opening is about 7 to 8 inches wide by now, and you really didn't want it all the way open, anyways. The weight of your weapons is a comfort. A small one, but a comfort nevertheless.

Then a zombie falls down the fire escape, clanging louder than your old neighbors at six in the morning when you're trying to sleep in. It's just as jarring and even more unwelcome, if that's possible.

But the worst part: the undead gathering outside your hideyhole start to push on the door.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you swallow. It's difficult, like your throat muscles have the energy of a watermelon covered in hundreds of rubber bands as they constrict your meager saliva down into your gut.

The zombie outside is right outside your window, groaning and moaning awfully. You ready your knives and tap one on the heater. The effect is immediate. The creature roars and rams it's head into the space between the window and the sill.

It's hideous and smells just as bad. It's teeth are rotting, its lips are gone, it's covered in blood, and worst of all, its eyes are moving horrifically. You stare into the iris-less milky whites and nearly scream when it turns and tries to bite your hand off.

You snatch away your limb, before raising both above your head and bringing them and the knives down into the disgusting monster. They stab right into its eyes into its brain.

The thing goes limp, and at that moment, the china cabinet crashes to the floor. You shove the carcass out the window and desperately push it open wide enough for you to start crawling out.

You stick your head through first and then your torso. And then a zombie grabs your ankle, it's broken and rotting fingers closing around your exposed skin with glee. 

And then it's sinking it's teeth into your other, previously unwounded leg and you let out an involuntary cry, tears of pain streaking down your cheeks. You roughly kick the zombie away with your free foot and tumble out onto the fire escape. The impact jars you, sending you back into panic mode as you scramble to your feet and slam the window closed on three sets of zombie arms. They wiggle fiercely and you fight hard not to vomit. Your hands shake violently as you shove the arms back inside the building. When you succeed, you shut it tight and take several steps back.

You painfully stoop down and roll the dead zombie over. The butcher knives stick out of its sockets in a way that would be almost funny if it wasn't so horrific. You yank them both out, choosing to ignore the disgusting squish noise that it emits when they exit the thing's skull cavity.

You don't have time to rest, though, so your break is cut short. You'll make up for your lost time at a later date, preferably when you're at the RPD drinking hot chocolate with a bunch of police officers with guns guarding you.

You slowly and carefully walk down the escape, praying to god that there are no more zombies in the nearby vicinity. You limp down the steps, every movement sending agony straight to your legs. Your old one was more painful and deeper, as the new one is a shallow bite, and is more bruising than actual broken skin. You can walk (read: limp, cuz you're a wuss) normally, if painfully.

When you finally, finally make it to the bottom, you don't risk pushing down the ladder. Instead, you jump into a garbage bag laying on the ground. It crunches a little, but the landing isn't as loud as you'd thought, even if your calves are literally screaming at you when you stand again. 

You hear the zombies above you break the windows glass and your heart begins to race again. You're in an alley in a part of the city you don't know well, all alone, and surrounding by undead cannibals. The panic is once again threatening to drown you, but miraculously, you manage to keep your head above the water. You'll have panic attacks later, when you're not in eminent danger.

With that thought, you courageously lurch forward, gritting your teeth and allowing a few tears to slip down your face. As long as you keep moving, you'll be fine, you tell yourself.

You peek out the edge of the alley. Strangely, the streets aren't filled with zombies like you'd thought they'd be. They're pretty devoid of movement and noise, but even so, you don't let your guard down. You ready your knives and slowly exit the space. You examine every inch of the new area, feeling anxiety well in your throat. It makes you want to sob, but you stay quiet. Your eyes dart around.

Still no signs of life- or zombies. Time to think of a plan...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some trials and tribulations, you make it to the station.

You scrutinize the streets. It's full of burning cars and piles of wreckage; it truly does look like something out of a Hollywood movie. 

A car across the street catches your eye, a Honda Accord. It's seemingly undamaged, but something about it makes you shiver. Perhaps the way that it's parked delicately against the curb. It looks far too normal and it makes your mouth dry.

But the noise behind you gets louder and you decide to go for it. You bolt across the street, your grip on your knives slick with perspiration. You ready them as you peek in the slightly tinted windows of the vehicle.

It's empty, not a mark on its clean, leather seats. There's a key chain sitting on the drivers side and on it is a key for a Honda Accord, along with some cutesy anime chains. You sigh, hoping that the poor weeb is still alive, but... looking at this hastily abandoned car, you doubt it. You snatch up the keys and scrutinize the back seat and trunk of the vehicle. In the trunk, you find an empty backpack and a bottle of water, with some antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizer.

You take everything and put them inside the backpack, along with one extra knife you rip from your hip. After all, you don't want to have all your eggs in one basket, right? You throw the backpack in between the passenger and driver's, making sure that your knives were on the top and easily accessible. You plop yourself down in the drivers and put the key in the ignition, praying to God that it starts.

"Oh, thank fuck..." You gasp as the engine purrs. Your first instinct is to check the gas tank, because why else would the perfectly operational car have been ditched? But thankfully, it's got a decently full tank and all the functions are working normally. It's enough to make you feel uneasy.

You put the vehicle into drive and start to drive off, just missing the hoard of zombies spilling from the alley. If you'd had any doubts about leaving so hurriedly, they were gone the moment you spotted those things coming after you.

To the Raccoon Police Department you go.

~~~

The drive is quiet. No zombies outside your door or window, no sense of impending doom, and no restlessness. You're going somewhere productive, doing something worthwhile for the first time since this shit began.

Strangely, there are no group of zombies hanging out in the street. Nothing lunges at your car to eat you. Not yet, at least. That'll change when you arrive.

An idea occurs to you and you lean forward to turn on the radio. There's static, some music and- there!

"-advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City Police Station. Free food and medical supplies will be provided to everyone in need." The voice on the radio pauses and fades back in, "Attention all citizens. Due to the citywide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at-" 

You turn it off angrily. Seriously? A looping message? No new news? Or reports? ANYTHING? In fact, you think it might be the same recording you'd heard on the TV the day after it all started.

You glance at the peripherals in your vision, taking note of all the cars hastily parked on the side of the road. A lot of people came to the station, apparently. Then something ahead catches your eye.

"Tail lights...?" You mutter disbelievingly.

You get closer, noticing the blockade keeping the car ahead from moving forward, if there was anyone inside, that is. You curse, feeling your heart drop. You'll have to get out of the car to get to where you want to go, won't you?

You hold your breath as you pull up next to the police vehicle. Inside the window, you can see two people looking at you, one woman and one man. People, real people- the first you've seen in days. You want to cry again, but you hold it in, instead mouthing the words 'Police Department' at them in question.

They each nod, but suddenly, the girl in red points beyond you with a look of alarm. You turn just in time to see a zombie smash its face up against your passenger side window. You scream and jump back, arms reaching out to grab your knives. You hear similar shouts from the neighboring car, so you assume they're in the same boat.

Another zombie slams its rotting body against your door and you let out a pathetic noise, probably cursing your bad luck in the weakest way possible.

A glint of light from an unknown source blinds you, making you wince through your panic and look up. In the rear view mirror, you can make out two very bright headlights approaching at very high speeds. The truck seems to waver in its steering, leading you to believe that it's not going to stop and keep itself from hitting you.

Well shit. You need to get out of this car. 

The door shudders as you heave with all your might, but it doesn't move. The truck gets closer and closer and you give up, simply strapping yourself in a seat belt and bracing yourself against the dashboard. Let's see if you survive this, shall we?

The truck hits with an almighty bang and you swear your car flies through the air. You jerk back against the back of the seat and lurch forward again. You're totally unaware of anything and all you feel is pain, panic, and confusion. The world is a blur of gray and red and you feel like throwing up.

All at once, it stops, and your car is still, if not completely totaled. You sit up from your slumped position and give a start when all you see is fire, fire, fire. You clumsily unbuckle your seat belt with rubbery fingers and grab your knives from beside you. Underneath is the backpack, but you really don't think you can stand a second longer in this car. There was nothing of importance inside, anyway. You force open the crumpled door and fall out onto the pavement, carefully avoiding gouging your eyes out with your kitchen knives.

You stand up, groaning softly as you examine the semi-circle of clear space not taken up by flaming vehicles. It's swelteringly hot, even in the rain, and you gulp when you notice several slightly stirring bodies on the wet ground.

A car door opens nearby, and you look to the side to see someone tumble out of a car and into your line of sight. It's hard to tell if he's the man from the police cruiser or not because you couldn't really get a good look at him through the dirty windows.

He turns around and jumps when he spots you, holding out his gun for the briefest of moments before seemingly recognizing you. Guess he's the dude from the car after all. 

He tilts his head, looking concerned, "Ma'am, are you...?" You give him a thumbs up as you stumble over to his side to let him know you weren't injured. Maybe you should stick by him- he honestly looks like he's got his shit together, even in this shitty mess. And he's got a gun.

"Oh no..." He says suddenly, grabbing your shoulders out of nowhere.

'Oh no' is right, because not even a second later, the car explodes in a plume of fire and smoke. You and the man are thrown back into something hard, but he gets most of the damage because he'd practically caged you in his arms when the first spark had caught his eye.

Your savior stands up first, with obvious difficulty. He's holding his side... is he hurt?

He offers you a hand and pulls you up as he shouts at the burning wreckage, "CLAIRE! CLAIRE, YOU OKAY?!"

After a moment of agonizing silence, someone you assume must be Claire answers.

"YEAH! I'M ALRIGHT!" She pauses a little, "HOW ABOUT YOU, LEON?! IS THAT GIRL WITH YOU?!"

You freeze when you notice the zombies standing up all around the two of you. There's a lot, and this time you don't think your knives are going to cut it.

(I'm sorry I'll stop T-T)

Leon grips your shoulder with one hand and aims a gun at a zombie with the other, "YEAH, BUT WE CAN'T STAY HERE, IT'S NOT SAFE!" Yeah, what a way to state the obvious, Leon. Maybe she wasn't already aware that you're totally fucked, "WE'LL MEET YOU AT THE STATION!"

"I'LL BE THERE!" Claire promises, then you hear footsteps as she runs off, assumablely from zombies and their grabbing hands.

"C'mon!" Leon lets go of your shoulder in favor of your wrist, "This way!"

He pulls you away from the zombie hoard behind you and forward, evading the many zombies standing in your way. It's nerve-wracking to say the least, but at least now, unlike back at the apartment, you've got company, someone you can tell is trustworthy already. 

"This is outta control!" Leon snaps, shooting a zombie before it can attempt to lunge at the two of you. You can't help but agree. Where the fuck is the government in all this, anyway?

Finally, you turn into an alley.

Leon speaks again, something about everything being dead, but you don't think it's so much as directed at you as it is himself and his internal monolog. The alley allows you the tiniest bit of relief, in your opinion, because now you don't have to worry about being attacked from the side, anymore, just what's directly in front and what's right behind. You reach the bottom and go up some steps, feeling your legs get tired from all the running you've been doing today and recently in general. Your cardio is probably off the charts...

And then when you reach the top step, across the street, you see it. And Leon does, too, because he says so seconds later.

"There it is... the station." His voice is filled with hope and determination.

"Yeah, I hope everything is still okay there..." You mutter.

Leon jumps, his grip on your wrist tightening for a moment. You blink on surprise before letting a tired grin spread across your cheeks.

"You forgot I was there, didn't you?" You ask, shaking your head, "And I've even been holding your hand..." Well, that's not exactly true, he's been holding your wrist because you're holding steak knives in both your fists, sooo...

He smiles down at you guiltily. He's actually kinda tall, now that you think about it. Probably around six foot...

Not that it matters or anything. 

"You're very quiet." He defends in response to your accusation.

"Right now, I am." You comment, because as he'll find out when you get inside the station, you're actually very loud when you're not in mortal danger. Then Leon tugs you forward and the two of you start to walk again, the playful atmosphere disintegrating like wet chalk.

The way to the station is very similar as it was earlier, a pathway between burning cars and useless blockades shoved to the side, likely by the undead. It's still crawling with zombies, of course, but as before, you and Leon just take care to avoid them. They don't lunge if you're far enough away.

You'd like to be that distance, and then some. Maybe a few hundred miles or something like that. 

You're just passing by the burning school bus when a huge zombie flops out of it and onto the fire below. It lays there for a few seconds before rolling upright and starting after you. It's a disturbing sight, one that makes you want to scramble undrneath a car and never come out again.

But the gate is right there-

Leon pulls you forward again and you start to run at the gate, just skirting by the angry zombies who want a taste of those delicious human happy meals that so kindly decided to reside in their disgusting presence.

Too bad for them, because you and Leon open the gate and lock yourselves behind it, finally relaxing after what felt like hours of fear and suspense. You lean against the wall next to the bars of the gate and watch Leon walk around the courtyard, looking around like he expects to find random piece of metal hanging out in the corners.

You're not sure why you don't want to go inside the station as soon as possible. You've just got a weird feeling that out here is safer, and that the station...

"Your name is Leon, right?" You blurt out, the realization occurring to you that you hadn't confirmed his name yet. You could have totally misheard and been calling him the wrong name in your head this entire time.

Leon looks over his shoulder at you as he pauses... doing whatever he was doing in that corner to speak to you. You ignore the angry sounds of the zombies as they push against the gate, agitated at the noises coming from somewhere they can't see.

"Yeah, Leon Kennedy." He turns back, but continues, "How'd you know?"

"It's what Claire called you earlier." You respond, thinking back to that moment and tapping your chin.

Leon stands up from his previously crouching position and smiles faintly. You dimly register that he's quite handsome when he smiles, with sparkling eyes of a color you've yet to identify in the dim light of the city.

"You wanna tell me your name? It's only fair, since you already know mine." He says, smile becoming a little more real as he gets closer.

After you tell him, you ask curiously, "Did you just come into town? You seem a little... fresh."

"Huh?" He looks at his clothes, "Fresh?"

You purse your lips, "You don't look like you've been here long, is what I mean. How did you even get into town, anyway? I thought everything was blocked off."

He scratches the back of his neck, "Today was supposed to be my first day working as a police officer. I didn't see anything off until I came up onto a gas station over flowing with these things. I think they'll have answers here, though. We should head inside."

You frown, "I don't know, Leon. Something about this doesn't sit right with me. Don't you think it's odd that the gate was just left unlocked?"

Leon turns to look at the doors, "Yeah, I do. But this is our best shot. And besides," He gives you a serious look, "We said we'd meet up with Claire here. I don't want to leave her hanging. It's safer when you're not on your own."

His reasons outweigh yours, so you concede, nodding and walking next to him up to the doors. Also, what else were you gonna do? Go back and hang out with the zombies? You didn't have much of a choice, not because of Leon, but because of the billshit that was your life right now.

The doors open, revealing the contents of the mysterious station...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm sorry about the crappy endings to these chapters. I wrote this story in one continuous narrative, and I didn't stop for chapter endings or anything, so the endings are coming post-writing the next chapter.  
> Anway, hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading ;P


	3. Chapter 3

Opening the front doors is a disappointment. The main hall is empty aside from the front desk, some medical shit all in the corner. 

"Hello...?" Leon calls out, making you flinch. Great, are you gonna have PTSD after all this shit is over and done with? Because that's just awesome.

"Is anybody here?" Leon heads straight for the desk, typing on a typewriter (...For...some reason...?) and opening the storage bin behind it. You don't really know what he's doing, but you don't feel safe wandering around a few feet away from him, you casually speedwalk up to the front desk. You maunuver around him and try to look at what he's typing, but then he stops and looks at you.

"Find anything?" He asks, tilting his head. For some strange reason, your stomach flips. Suddenly, you have the urge to be useful, to do something to help.

You think wildly and remember the screen you'd seen with the RPD logo behind you. You don't hesitate to point it out eager to assist.

"There's a computer over here." You turn around and gesture to said computer. Thank god your memory is still intact. Too bad you can't say the same about your sanity... "There might be some helpful stuff on it, Mr. Detective Cop Dude."

Leon rolls his eyes, "Let me see." He quickly moves around you to reach the the thing. He turns it off the screensaver of the logo you'd seen and opens the security footage, "There has to be someone else here..." He mutters. You gasp when you see a police officer fighting off a zombie on the screen.

"Not good..." Leon says, eyes fixed on the poor cop.

"David?! Marvin?! You there?!" The man holds up a blurry booklet at the camera, "I found a way out! It's in here! Send reinforcements, East Hallway!"

He wrestles off the zombie and takes off in the other direction. Leon opens up a map of the East side of the station and you quickly zero in on the area the cop is trapped inside. Leon pulls out a small book not unlike the one the officer waved around in the footage and draws a scrappy replica of the map on the crinkled pages. After minute, he puts it away and straightens before crossing his arms and wearing a pensive expression. No words are needed to explain what he's thinking.

"I'm not staying here, Leon." You cross your arms, avoiding the sharp edges of your knives. You swear they're a part of you at this point, like your fingernails or teeth. There is no way you're ever letting go of them, just like there's no way you're staying here and waiting to get jumped.

"It's not safe!" Leon argues taking a step back, "We don't know what's out there!" He moves back a little more. He obviously doesn't want to stick around and fight about it, so you use that to your advantage.

"Oh come on, it's not like it's safe anywhere!" You take a step forward, throwing your arms up in theatrics, "The safest place is with you, I'd bet, and I'm good with knives -kinda- so I promise not to get in the way! And aren't you the one who said it's safer to go in teams of two or more?"

"Okay, okay." Leon holds his hands up in surrender, "Let's just go. This guy's in danger, so I don't think we should waste any time."

You nod, serious, "Yeah, of course. Which exit leads to the East Hallway?"

He points over to a door blocked by blinds, "The map only showed this half. Through that way, left, two rights, and another left."

"Left, two rights, and a left." You repeat to yourself, putting a hand under your chin, "Are those all at crossroads?"

"No." Leon reloads his gun and heads for the blinds, "Just some general directions.

"Okay, I'm confused." You say, "Can I just see the map, please?"

Leon rolls his eyes, but puts the book in your hand without complaint. You pull it back in toward your face and flip through the pages until you find the map, then trace the way with your finger and make note of the rooms and empty spaces you'll pass by along the way. When you've finished, you look up to see Leon crouching down and running his fingers along the bottom of the blinds, probably looking for a good spot to lift up from.

"Can you get it open?" You ask worriedly, tilting your head. 

He turns around and looks up at you. His eyes are kind and sweet and his mouth is upturned in a tiny smile.

"Yeah, of course I can." He turns around and heaves, pulling the blinds up about a foot and a half from the ground. He staggers back, "Just not all the way, apparently."

"It's fiiine." You reassure him, walking forward and putting a hand on his shoulder, "As long as you go first, I should be okay."

Leon laughs, his shoulders shaking under your fingers. It's a pleasant sound, one that makes your stomach flop around like you ate a live fish. You crack a smile at his laughter. He's like a ray of sunlight in an otherwise pitch black world...

"See?" You side check him lightly as you move around him to talk face to face, "That's the spirit. The joy of the suicidal."

Leon grins at you before shaking his head ruefully, "Come on, we gotta go find that cop. He's in danger right now."

"Yeah." Your smile vanishes as you remember why you're heading this way at all. Someone is probably dying and you're laughing with Leon at some stupid joke. Jeez, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why is your coping mechanism such bullshit?

"Way's clear." Leon says quietly and you flinch. While you were busy yelling at yourself, Leon had gotten down onto his stomach and crawled a little under the blinds to examine the new area. It only serves to make you feel like even more shit. Why can't you be useful? You probably WILL slow him down.

You shake your head and leap into action to distract yourself. You get down on your stomach, too, holding out your knives like the lifelines they are.

'Prepare to be stabbed, you sacks of shit...'

You crawl in after Leon, scooting uncomfortably along the gross, muddy (at least you hope it's mud...) floor. Leon offers you a hand and helps you get upright. You shove all negative thoughts aside and get into business mode.

The hallway doesn't stretch out in front of the entrance like most. Instead, it turns to the left and brings the level down with some stairs. You turn your pathetic flashlight down the hallway, but you can't see the end. It unnerves you, but so does literally everything except Leon right now.

Speaking of Leon, he's checking out some fuse boxes on the left wall. Maybe there's something wrong with them, and that's why the lights aren't on. You hope he figures out how to fix them, because sitting around in the dark like this is creeping you out.

You spot a pair of double doors and curiosity makes you break the uneasy silence.

"Hey, Leon..." You whisper.

He turns around and tilts his head, "What?"

"These lead to the East Office, right?" You gesture to the red doors.

Leon nods and walks down the steps. You hold your breath as he tries the doors, but let it out in disappointment when they don't move under his hand. Maybe there was something interesting in there that you couldn't get now because some selfish jerk locked it.

Or maybe there's a zombie in there, and that's why it's locked. But hey, always worth the risk, right? Hah, just kidding. You're almost grateful they're locked now.

"Let's keep going." Leon says and holds out a hand for you to grab. Under normal circumstances, you'd be either offended or flattered, maybe both, but because things aren't normal right now, all you feel is relief. Nothing even romantic. Just relief that you can have some kind of constant assurance that someone is alive and well next to you, keeping you safe.

You give Leon one of your knives, which he tucks into his pocket, and a grateful smile while you take his hand without any further hesitation. You walk down the steps and into the dark hallway, though it gets less dark the further you go into it because of Leon's flashlight. It illuminates a few vending machines and potted plants, along with a bunch of boxes. Everything is gross looking, and occasionally a bloody handprint stands out on otherwise clean walls.   
  
The two of you come across another set of doors, and this time, they open. The room inside is just as dark as the hallways, and just as spooky. There's a dead body lying on the floor, but you dissociate yourself so you don't freak out when Leon basically searches the dude for bullets. Sure, you understand that it'll help both of you to survive, but the guy is dead and Leon is practically ransacking his corpse. 

You don't say anything, of course, mainly because you're being stupid and emotional and empathic with a dead guy, and partly because you know Leon is right, anyway.

Then you spot a red light out of the corner of your eye. You cautiously walk forward and get a closer look. It seems to be a button... what'll happen if you press it?

Apparently you have no self control, because two seconds later you're pressing the button and the lights are on. You hear a rustle behind you and you turn to see Leon looking at you with bewildered eyes. You give him an awkward smile and shrug, kinda like, 'Sorry, dude, I see a button and I can't help but press it. I'm a child like that.'

Leon shakes his head and stands up. Trying to be serious, he says, "You didn't even know what that would do. You shouldn't press random buttons just because you feel like it."

You grin, "Yeah, I know. It was stupid, but hey, at least it worked out this time, right?"

"'This time' being the key words." Leon pockets the ammo he got from the dead guy and gestures at you that it's time to leave. You walk over, taking care not to step on the dead guy.

Not just out of respect, though that is another valid reason; you also don't want to take any chances with dead things after the past few days' events.

~~~

After passing by a few anxiety inducing windows, a sudden scream nearby nearly makes you fall over in surprise.

"OPEN UP! HURRY! OPEN UP! OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR!"

Leon steadies you before replying back to assure the man who must be the officer that someone was there to rescue him.

"I'll get you out!" Leon doesn't waste any time; he pulls you along to the door of the break room. 

The break room is small, only about ten feet across and five feet wide. There's a desk in the middle of the room, and at the far end there's a set of blinds, shaking under the assault being done to it, likely by the cop from what he's yelling.

Leon lets go of your hand when he reaches the desk and runs over to the blinds, lifting them up with all his strength. Like before, he only gets them up about a foot or so in the air. You run after him, feeling useless as you stand around pointlessly behind Leon.

"HELP ME, PLEASE HELP ME!" The cop yells as he starts to crawl underneath the gap.

You rush forward, dropping your knives and grasping for his flailing fingers, "Gimme your hands! I'll pull you!"

You grab his right hand and yank hard on the appendage, hoping to get him out in time. The cop is screaming in pain and you're only dimly aware of Leon holding onto the other hand and pulling with you.

"Hang in there!" He rasps out as he tries to jerk the cop into safety.

Then blood explodes from behind the screen and splashes on your shoes in a big, gorey mess. The cop stops resisting your hauls, and instead slides easily out from under the blinds, causing you to fall back on your ass from the force of your own tugs.

Well. Half of him slides out from the blinds. He's basically ripped in two, his intestines trailing on the bloody tiles like disgusting confetti.

"Oh my god..." Leon sounds like he's going to puke, "Jesus Christ..."

As you stare in a horrified stupor at the dead man laying on the floor, Leon bends down and picks up the booklet from the corpses hand. He flips through it quickly, before jerking his head up at the sound of smashing glass coming from outside the break room.

All that yelling and noise must've attracted a lot of attention. 

You try to shake yourself out of it, but you can't stop staring at the body. That man was alive not even minutes ago, but now...

Only when the door bursts open and a zombie cop stumbles in do you finally snap out of your trance. You start to scramble upright, but by the time you're standing, Leon already took out the zombie with a single head shot. He turns to you and says, "Let's go!" In the most stressed tone you've heard from him yet.

You don't pause, not even for a second to grab your knives from the ground, the whole run out of the East area. Zombies lunge at every opportunity, and you just barely manage to avoid being bitten. Leon is up ahead, shooting the closer zombies at every chance he gets. While his aim is incredible, his gun isn't as much of a performer. A headshot doesn't necessarily mean the zombie's head explodes, and those are the ones you have to watch out for. You've already ripped a knife free from the duct tape on your sides, holding it out in front of you like a sword.

You're just coming up to the vending machines and turning left when a zombie lurches out of nowhere and knocks you to the ground. She smells of decaying flesh and blood and tries to bite your nose off. You drop your knife and reach up to keep her face away from yours.

"Leon!" You scream, fighting her off as best you can, "A little fucking help please!" She's rabid, scrabbling for a bite at your tasty, supple neck.

"Shit!" A gunshot goes off, but it whizzes past, missing completely.

You try to keep her at bay while at the same time reaching for your knife, which you dropped when she'd tackled you. It's superbly difficult, because she's thrashing around and scratching every part of you she can reach. Her head gets closer and closer to yours with every passing second and she's almost there, knashing her rotting jaws just inches from yours-

Then the weight is lifted and you can breathe again. You sit up immediately, scooping up your knife and watching as Leon puts his gun to the woman's head and shoots a killing shot. Her head bursts like a tomato all over the vending machine behind them. The smell is revolting, but you barely care because a hoard of zombies is coming up fast and Leon seems a bit out of breath.

"COME ON!" You shriek, grabbing his wrist with your free hand and bolting for the blinds. You scramble up the steps and wiggle under the gap in under ten seconds. You stay on the ground, so preoccupied that you don't notice the figure walking in an ungainly fashion up to you.

You reach out and grab Leon's hands and pull him through, desperately trying not to think of the other cop who was in the same place as Leon just a few minutes ago.

Leon crawls through, but just as he's almost free, a zombie grabs his ankle and tries to bite him. He yells in frustration, kicking at the thing with a ton of force, but the zombie doesn't let up.

Terrified, you stand up and hold your knives ready, but the moment you look up, you see an unsteady and sickly looking man in a police uniform use the blinds to crush the zombie trying to chow down on Leon's foot. It explodes, brain matter spraying across the floor, and Leon falls back.

Still not quite out of panic mode, you stagger and fall on your ass. You're shaking so hard you can barely hold your knife, and you think you might pass out. You look up and see Leon staring up at the man, who's leaning against the blinds.

"You're safe... for now."

"Thanks..." Leon says.

"Who are you?" You ask, knitting your eyebrows.

"Marvin Branagh." His voice is breathless, and you wonder if the wound he has is a zombie bite...

"Leon Kennedy." In front of you and facing away, Leon turns his head to the ground, "There was another officer... I-I couldn't... We couldn't..."

"I'm sure you did what you could, Leon." The man offers Leon a hand, then hauls him up to standing.

You're a bit late on the uptake, so you just now realize there is another person in the station.... Fuck, maybe you'll make it out of this city after all.


End file.
